“What makes you say that, Mrs. Jensen?” The young man asked innocently.
“My dress!” She said, as if he didn’t know. “It was never this short! And the neckline! I’m about to fall out of it! There’s no way I would have put something like this on! You changed it, didn’t you?”
“Why on Earth would I do that, Mrs. Jensen?” He asked.
“Oh, don’t you act all innocent with me, Peter!” She said, putting her hands-on her hips and sticking out her chest defiantly as was her habit. “Everyone in the neighborhood knows you have a device that messes with reality AND that you’re a pervert! I don’t even know why I came over to your house! You probably used your reality engine thingy to trick me to coming here!”
“I just wanted to get to know you, Mrs. Jensen,” the young man. “Just have you over for a drink to be neighbourly! But I think you may have had too much. You seem very confused.”
“What are you even talking about?” She demanded. “You think I can’t handle my liquor? Cuz I can tooally handle my liquor!”
She giggled. The very idea that she couldn’t handle her liquor was preposterous. Peter might be cute but he didn’t know the first thing about her!
“It’s just, you seem confused about a lot of things, Mrs. Jensen,” he said.
“ MmmMmmMmm!” She denied, shaking her head in a way that seemed to make the whole room wobble gently. "I’m naw confused! Yer confused an confused and, like, confused!“
"I’m not the one accusing my neighbor of having a reality engine,” he pointed out.
“No, no, no, no, no!” She said shaking a scolding finger at him. "Yer naw gun get away wif gettin’ away wif that! Everybody knows ‘wash out for Pee'er an his really real realicy engine tha’ mace all the neighbor layzees have real big titties!“
"You think it’s my fault so many of the women in this neighborhood are so, um, well endowed?” He asked, incredulous.
“Yes, cuz you like big tizzies an’ girls wif big tizzies so you use yer big tizzies machine to give us big tizzies!” She accused him, punctuating it with a slug from her whiskey bottle that she could totally handle, no matter what anybody with a big tittie making reality engine might say.
“Are you saying you don’t like my big ol’ titsies tha’ you may wif yer reallaly enshun?” She asked, drizzling whiskey on the big old titties in question.
<God I’m such a slutty flirt when I drink,> she thought to herself. <But I can totally handle it.>
“I….I like them, yes,” he said, flustered to Mrs. Jensen’s delight. “I’m just not taking responsibility for them.”
“No yer nots!” She agreed. “I’m asponable for my own big titties an my own big titsies can totally hanl their whissey!”
“Well, yes, I’m sure you and your titties are certainly big enough to handle whiskey on your own,” he conceded to her satisfaction. “I’m just concerned that in combination with all those pills you took, you might be confused.”
“I’m… confused?” She asked her twelve foot tall neighbor with the glowing pnk eyes as he started down at her from way above.
Was he trying to look down her shirt at her big ol’ tittie? She pulled it down to be helpful.
“With all that in your system, I don’t think you know what’s real or not just now,” said the anthropomorphic bunny rabbit with the big cock. “Why don’t I tuck you in my bed and you can sleep it off.”
“Why don’t you fuck me in your bed and get me off?” She asked the well-hung bunny man.
Bunnies we’re good at fucking. She knew that for sure.
“Well, that would work too,” the bunny man agreed and picked her up to take her to his bed.
At least she was pretty sure that was what really happened. She may have been confused.
“Jacob, you haven’t been using that reality engine again, have you?”
>Noooo. Why do you ask?
“It’s just… something seems different. I can’t put my finger on it, but I swear something changed.”
>Huh. Things seem perfectly normal to me. I did open the curtains. Maybe it’s just that there’s more light in here so things seem brighter and prettier?
“I guess that could be it. I just…were my tits always this big? They seem improbably large.”
>Well, I’m sure they must have been smaller at some point, but they’ve been that spectacular ever since I could remember.
“Well, that’s sweet of you to say so. Still, something is different. I’ll figure it out eventually. You’re sure you haven’t been using that reality engine?”
>Cross my heart! If I’m lying, may I go impotent! You trust me, don’t you?
“Oh, of course I do, Jacob. Come give your old grandma a hug and a screw and then I’ll make you cookies like I promised.”
“Last week when you were asking about the alternative reality hypothesis, was there a particular reason for that?”
>Just a little side project I’ve been working on in my spare time. Why do you ask?
“It’s just, well, I keep having this strange feeling that something has changed, but I can’t put my finger on it…”
>That’s odd. Have you tried sucking dick?
“No, I haven’t. Do you think it will help?”
>It usually does. You know how women are…
“Yes, we are all pretty much obsessed with it, aren’t we? I guess it makes sense that, given that I haven’t sucked any in a few hours, I’d start to feel like something wasn’t right. Do you think I could suck yours?”
>i suppose it’s the least I could do, given how much you’ve helped me in the past, Professor Sugartits.
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Barcelona by The Sympathetic Devil
Author’s note: This story takes place approximately one month after the events of “Not Guilty by Reason of Omnipotence”
Shawna sighed. The transatlantic flights always depressed her. One of these days she was going to have to actually enjoy Barcelona. Foreign travel was why she had become a flight attendant, after all.
But it wouldn’t be this flight. Or the next. She was always so exhausted by the time they got there. The passengers never gave her a moment’s rest. By the time everyone was off and all her paperwork was done, she desperately needed to get to her hotel and sleep. But the airline was so tight these days that they only wanted to give her the rest time mandated by law. Then it was back to work and back aboard a plane. Her long layovers always seemed to be back home in Raleigh. That way the airline didn’t have to shell out for a hotel.
At least she had pulled First Class for the flight. Obnoxious, entitled rich people were better than obnoxious, entitled middle-class people any day. In the expensive seats were the standard mix of those that could afford them: A pair of business men discussing their stock portfolios. A pair of business women discussing how to best get promoted. A cute retired couple happily spending their children’s inheritance. And a man in his 50s with a woman in her 20s with breast implants. She could have been his daughter, but with 10 years in the air, Shawna could spot a trophy wife or a mistress a mile away.
She had served the pre-flight drinks and now was watching the rubes in coach file past. Not her problem today. Cheryl counted them off, then gave a tight smile to Shawna and said “That’s all of them.”
They were closing the door when a young man coming down the boarding ramp called out “Hold a moment, please.”
Shawna stared at Cheryl, who started back, perplexed. Why would Monica be letting anyone down the ramp? The flight was full. No one had mentioned anyone on stand by.
“I’m sorry sir; there must have been some…” Shawna started.
Then she stopped. The young man was wearing a loud Hawaiian shirt with colors that were never meant to be anywhere near each other, together with white golf shorts and flip flops. Tacky, but not unheard of in her experience.
But his companion…The outfit she wore was easily the most outrageous thing anyone had ever tried to board a plane in. She made Kyla Ebbert look like a nun.
She was Asian. Possibly Japanese. At least she had her glossy black hair tied up in pigtails on top of her head so that they curved up and down like bunny ears, like in one of those Japanese cartoon shows.
Her top… Shawna didn’t know what to call it. She would call it a bikini, but it looked like it would completely fall apart if you got it wet. She would call it a bra, but it didn’t seem to provide any support whatsoever for the woman’s jutting and jiggling, obviously implanted, breasts.
It consisted of two triangles of hot pink fabric about as broad as a man’s hand at the base. These were held on by the most fragile-looking white lace, going around her neck from the tops of the triangles and around her back from the bottom. On each triangle the word “Yum” was embroidered so that it looked like cupcake frosting.
If you could manage to continue looking downward, the woman was wearing a pleated skirt of the same color, the white lace trimming above and below. It didn’t even cover half of her thighs.
Continuing downward, Shawna discovered the woman was wearing pink stripper-heels. How she had managed to make it down the ramp, Shawna couldn’t imagine.
Cheryl recovered first.
“I’m sorry,” she said with wrote professionalism. “I’m afraid you two are in the wrong place. What flight number is on your tickets?”
“Oh, we don’t have tickets,” the young man said, grinning. “We just felt like going to Europe on a lark so we figured we’d fly. In an airplane. And this is an airplane, right?”
“Oh!” Cheryl exclaimed. “Oh, yes it is! Right you are then! Welcome aboard!”
Her fellow flight attendant stepped back into the plane to let them in. Shawna looked back and forth, bewildered.
“What!?!” she exclaimed. “You can’t just…who are you?”
“This Mr. Jimmy-San!” the Japanese woman exclaimed. “He super-duper happy birthday! Me Yum-Yum!”
She pointed at her tits to prove her point.
“Yum-Yum Fukadonki! Me love Mr. Jimmy-San long time!”
“Sorry for the delay. We’ll just find our seats,” the young man said. “Come along Yum-Yum.”
“Yes Sir Mr. Jimmy-San!” she said.
<p>They walked right past Shawna. She was dumbfounded. This wasn’t right!
She found her will and stormed back into the plane. Cheryl and the young man were talking to the two business men, who were nodding while staring at Yum-Yum’s tits. This was outrageous! First class passengers were hers!
“I’m sorry these people are bothering you,” she told the men.
“Oh no bother!” the heavier one said. “We’re glad to give up our seats.”
“Certainly! Our privilege, really!” the thinner one agreed.”
“I’m sure we’ll find a nice place to stuff you,” Cheryl assured them. “Mr. Green tells me there’s room.”
“Who’s Mr. Green?” Shawna demanded.
“That’s me!” the young man said, raising a hand. “James Green. You can call me James. Or Jim. Or Jimmy. Whatever makes you comfortable.”
Comfortable? He expected her to be comfortable? Her first-class passengers were following Cheryl back to coach! His stripper girlfriend was sitting in the front aisle seat in a skirt that had just announced that she wasn’t wearing panties!
“This…this is unacceptable!” she exclaimed. “She can’t be dressed like that!”
So many things were wrong on so many levels, but Shawna had at least dealt with dress- code violations before, so she seized on the one thing that was familiar, albeit a ridiculously extreme case of the familiar.
“You no like Yum-Yum pretty clothes?” the Japanese woman asked in dismay. “No like Yum-Yum name on Yum-Yum titties?”
She looked back and forth between Shawna and her companion in confusion.
“We have standards here on Southern Comfort Airlines,” Shawna explained as she had before. “Ways of dress that would make other passengers uncomfortable are prohibited. I’ll need you to drape a blanket over your lap and put on this T-shirt before we take off.”
She grabbed a SCA t-shirt from the closet and wondered when she had resigned to letting them stay on the flight. The plane door was closed. Had Cheryl done that?
“I don’t think the other passengers are uncomfortable with Yum-Yum’s outfit,” the man called James Green reasoned with her. “Are you folks uncomfortable?”
“My pants are a little uncomfortable,” the retired gentleman admitted, to which his wife giggled and patted his crotch.
“Could she stand up and spin around?” one of the businesswomen asked.
“Yes!” Yum-Yum exclaimed, hopping up on her stripper heels and spinning around in the aisle so that her frilly skirt flew up and flashed both ass and well-groomed pussy as she cried out “Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday!”
The businesswomen sighed and licked their lips.
“I think it’s a WONDERFUL outfit!” the one who had asked said.
“It’d look better on my hotel room floor,” the other one observed, and the two of them snickered and started whispering naughtily to each other.
“I want one just like it!” the trophy wife/mistress exclaimed.
“Oh, you’ll be getting one!” her sugar daddy assured her and started groping her tits while staring at Yum-Yum’s, clearly considering an upgrade.
“Well, the passengers aren’t uncomfortable,” James told Shawna. “But clearly you are and we don’t want to cause any problems. Yum-Yum, since it’s so important to Shawna, why don’t you go in the lavatory and change.”
“Yum-Yum try new clothes?” she asked. “Happy Birthday! Happy Yum-Yum!”
And so saying, the crazy Asian woman disappeared into the plane’s lavatory.
“Wait….what?” Shawna said.
The unticketed couple had boarded without any carry on luggage. Yum-Yum didn’t have so much as a purse. How could she…
Shawna went to knock on the lavatory door and demand the woman come out and put the T-shirt on. But the door opened before she could knock and Yum-Yum bounded out, tits-first.
“Hello Kitty!” she announced.
And indeed, her pigtails were gone and replaced with fluffy white cat ears on a head band. She had replaced the top with something even more indecent: a pair of Hello Kitty pasties covering each nipple. The iconic Kitty also smiled from over Yum-Yum’s pussy, silk screened in black over a shiny white G-string. A wire-supported tail curled up from the T in back. She wore fingerless white gloves and white high-heeled platform sandals, a Hello Kitty appliqué winking from each toe nail.
“Happy Birthday! Hello Kitty! Mrow, Mrow, Mrow!” Yum-Yum announced as she pushed past Shawna to go strutting and jiggling up and down the First Class aisle as the passengers gaped and applauded.
“Is that better, folks?” James Green polled the passengers. All six of them nodded vigorously. Even the older woman looked like she was drooling at the sight of the slutty kitten woman.
“No!” Shawna objected. “No! That’s not better! That’s not better at all! It’s worse!”
“Oh, come on!” the young man said. “You can’t deny that’s cute. Yum-Yum, show her how you can make the kitties spin!”
“Yes Sir, Mr. Jimmy-San, Sir!” Yum-Yum said and then proceeded, with careful coordination of her hips, back and shoulders, to set her tits to gyrating, first slowly, then faster and faster and faster as the passengers began to clap out a rhythm, egging her on.
Shawna couldn’t help but stare as the happy kitties spun about on their fleshy conveyance. It made her dizzy. She was so confused. She tore her eyes away and looked questioningly at the young man.
“Have a seat, Shawna,” he said, offering his lap. “You look like you could use a break.”
“Yes…yes…I should sit down,” she agreed, unbuttoning her jacket. “Dizzy.”
“You work to hard, Shawna,” the young man said, once she had settled her bottom into his lap and her feet into the Japanese woman’s unoccupied seat. “Here, let someone wait on YOU for a change”
So saying, her handed her a drink. An Old Fashioned. She looked around wondering where it could have come from.
“I can’t drink while I’m working,” she explained.
“You’re taking a break!” he reasoned. “Besides, we won’t tell, will we folks?”
“No Sir!” all the ticketed first-class passengers agreed in unison.
“Yum-Yum no tell!” the woman with the spinning kitty-titties assured her.
Shawna shrugged and drank down her drink in one go, and then chewed the maraschino cherry. She felt the tension drain out of her and the warmth raise in her cheeks. Still, she wouldn’t let him bribe her out of doing her duty and giving special favors to his friend.
“She’s wearing less than when she got on,” Shawna pointed out. “That’s not acceptable.”
“Uh-oh, Yum-Yum!” the man Shawna sat upon said. “Shawna doesn’t like that outfit either! Better change!”
“Yes, Sir Mr. Jimmy-San!” Yum-Yum said, stopping her titties from gyrating by clutching at them with both hands. “You the boss-man!”
And so saying, the Japanese woman scampered into the lavatory again. Shawna screwed up her face, wondering again where the Hello Kitty outfit had come from and how Yum- Yum was going to change again.
“How did she…” Shawna started to ask her seatmate, when she sloshed her drink and spilled a bit on the blouse of her uniform. She did a double take and realized her glass was full. It even had a new cherry.
“Better drink that up so you don’t make a mess of yourself,” the impromptu passenger advised, helpfully raising her hand towards her face. She drank it down and her head swam a little as warmth spread throughout her body. Whoever had made it hadn’t skimped on the whiskey the way they usually did at Southern Comfort Air.
“Here, let me help you with that,” he said, and dabbed at the spill on her blouse with a handkerchief.
It made her breasts feel all tingly. Or was that the whiskey? The spill seemed to be spreading. It had just been a few drops on her left boob, but now the wet spot covered both of them. As the young man continued to dab, the spot proceeded down until both her nipples were plainly visible through her white blouse.
What had happened to her bra? Not that it mattered. It would never fit, what with her boobies expanding like they were.
Was that normal? She was about to ask her seatmate when she became aware that her boobs were the only things swelling up there in the seat. A warm rod of flesh was pressing against her ass.
She looked sharply at the young man, suddenly realizing the inappropriateness of her position and about to ask about it when the lavatory door opened again and all the passengers gasped.
Shawna looked up to see that Yum-Yum was now dressed in nothing but glossy yellow shoes with black heels and platforms, a yellow hard hat, and several strips of yellow and black emergency tape. A spotlight came on from the ceiling and followed the Japanese woman as she strutted down the aisle and back as the passengers applauded.
When had the airline installed the spot light?
Shawna squinted as Yum-Yum strutted past. The tape was printed with “Caution: Slippery Surfaces”
Shawn quivered and felt her own self getting slick. She’d never found women attractive before, but this…
“WOOHOO!!!” one of the passenger’s shouted.
Shawna looked up. It seemed to come from the little retired couple’s seats. But the woman next to the old man was in her 20s. Had the trophy wife traded places with the old woman?
Shawna craned her neck around and saw that the blonde with the implants was still in her seat. Though she was dressed in black PVC, her blonde hair tied up severely. She was looking hungrily at Yum-Yum as she kept her businessman in check with a tight hold of the leash that was clipped to the dog collar around his neck.
Shawna finished her drink and looked to the business women. They were bulging out of skimpy bikinis and also lusting after Yum-Yum. Shawna couldn’t deny that the woman prancing and jiggling up and down the aisle was scrumptious. But this just wasn’t the sort of thing that should be happening in first class!
A hand was running up and down her thigh. Her panties were getting soaked. She tore her gaze away from Yum-Yum and looked at the man whose lap she was sitting on.
“You shouldn’t be touching my legs,” she admonished. “It’s inappropiat… inapopirat… s’not right.”
“But I’m stroking your pants, Shawna,” he told her. “Not your leg. Your leg is under your pants.”
Shawna finished her drink (hadn’t she done that before?) and shook her head, a blonde ringlet bouncing in front of her face. When had her hair changed? It didn’t matter. She had a point to make.
“Is’ the same thing!” she insisted. “Stroking my pants when I’m wearing them is the same as stroking my leg!”
“So it would be the same thing as if you weren’t wearing pants?” the young man asked, stroking the inside of her bare thigh.
“Yes, is the same thing as me not wearing pants,” Shawna agreed. “Cuz I’m not wearing pants.”
She looked down at her bare thighs, then up at the young man.
“Why am I not wearing pants?” she asked.
“So you can better enjoy Yum-Yum’s fashion show,” the young man told her. “She should change again, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, she should totally change again,” Shawna agreed as the Japanese woman disappeared into the lavatory. “But I don’t get how she keeps doing that.”
“Oh, she goes in there to change so that the audience has a chance to refresh their drinks,” he explained. “Here, let me get that for you.”
Shawna’s drink was full again. She figured she might as well drink it.
Yum-Yum emerged again. But this time she was covered from head to toe in what looked like some sort of burqa.
Shawna was very confused. She looked around and all the other passengers also looked confused. That was a relief. Shawna had asked the strange woman to cover up, but this was taking it a little too far. And the other first class passengers didn’t seem happy about it at all.
But then the spotlight spun around, sparkling and Yum-Yum raised her arms. The burqa ripped, made of the flimsiest paper, and it fell to the ground, revealing silky blue butterfly wings dangling from Yum-Yum’s arms, attaching to her waist, and flowing down to her knees.
In the middle of the beautiful butterfly she wore only a tiny blue sequined bikini, strings pulling the slip of fabric at her crotch up to even smaller strips that barely covered her nipples, with more blue strings connecting the nipple-slips to each other between her titties and around her neck. Yum-Yum fluttered around first class and everyone was awed by her lovely fuckableness.
“I would love to wear shumthing like that!” Shawna gushed. “I would tozally walk up an’ down the beashes of Barshelona and everybody would be, like, ‘Wow! She’s so hot!’”
Shawna giggled. She was drunk at work but she didn’t give a fuck! The young man’s hand had migrated to her crotch and a gentle finger was going up and down her labia through her soaked panties. She was so glad he and his friend were flying first class!
“I slipped an outfit just like it into your carry on luggage,” the young man confided. “As a present. But yours is purple. I hope you like it. And the airline is going to ask you to stay over in Barcelona for three days. You could use the break.”
“Oh my gawd!” Shawna gushed. “Yer so shweet!”
She wiggled her ass on his hard cock. It throbbed appreciatively.
“I think Yum-Yum has one more outfit,” James said, and he indicated with his head that she should go back to the lavatory, his other hand having become occupied with one of Shawna’s ringlet’s as he continued to stroke her slick slit.
“Yes Sir Mr. Jimmy-San!” butterfly Yum-Yum exclaimed, and fluttered into the lavatory.
Shawna took advantage of the break to steal a kiss, her tongue exploring the inside of James’ mouth as one of James’ fingers started exploring the inside of Shawna.
The plane was spinning when Shawna broke off the kiss and smiled her warmest smile at the passenger who was fingering her. But then the other passengers gasped. Shawna looked up to see what surprise Yum-Yum had for them next.
Shawna’s jaw dropped. Yum-Yum was wearing high heeled white leather boots that reached up to her knees. She was wearing a short, tight navy blue pencil skirt with a slit up her left thigh trimmed in white. She had a navy blue vest, trimmed in white, held over her titties by a single large brass button. She was wearing a navy blue garrison cap, trimmed in white, over her black glossy hair which had somehow now been intricately braded.
Yum-Yum filled out the outfit quite nicely. But what made Shawna’s jaw drop were the brass insignias pinned on vest and cap. The winged insignia of Southern Comfort Air. Yum-Yum was dressed as a flight attendant.
“Wayza minute!” Shawna exclaimed. “Way one fushing minute! No, no, no, no! I’m the fliza…flija…stewardess! ME! Shawna Larshen!”
She pulled James’ finger out of her and stood up on wobbly legs, but she wouldn’t let gravity get in the way of her outrage. She shook a finger at Yum-Yum.
“You can’t have my job!” she told her. “Iss my job! If there’s gunna be a slutty stewardess in fris class, iss gonna be me!”
“Oh no! Oh no!” Yum-Yum exclaimed, holding up her hands to her titties defensively. “Gomenasai, Miss Shawna-Sempai! Yum-Yum no replace Miss Shawna-Sempai! Yum-Yum only want be JUNIOR sky slut! Miss Shawna-Sempai big boss sky slut! Yum- Yum be little sky slut! Do what Miss Shawna-Sempai say! Please, teach Yum-Yum be good sky slut like Miss Shawna-Sempai!”
“But…But…” Shawna stammered, then she turned to James, who was clearly in charge. “Her uniform is sexier than mine!”
“I don’t know about that,” James said, looking up and down Shawn in her whisky-soaked blouse and her quim-soaked panties. “But if that’s all that’s bothering you, why don’t you go change your uniform?”
The unticketed passenger gestured at the lavatory. Shawna stared at it, nonplussed. Could she really go into the magic lavatory and change clothes the way Yum-Yum did? Would all the passengers think she was sexy, the way they lusted after Yum-Yum?
“Yum-Yum help Senior Sky Slut Miss Shawna-Sempai change!” her would-be apprentice volunteered.
A smile slowly dawned on Shawna’s face. She could totally do this! She staggered toward the lavatory and Yum-Yum opened the door for her, which was good because she wasn’t sure she could stop her forward progress.
When the Japanese woman squeezed in behind her and pulled the door closed, another door opened. One Shawna had never notice in all her years in the air. It opened into a big walk-in closet with dozens of sexy outfits on hangers and a big floor to ceiling mirror. Yum-Yum quickly found a uniform just like she wore and held it out for her approval. Shawna nodded stupidly. This was what she wanted.
Yum-Yum removed what was left of the outfit Shawna had put on early that morning, a life time ago. She then helped her senior officer dress, efficiently but not without the occasional appreciative stroke and pat.
Shawna wasn’t much help. She was drunk, for one thing, but she couldn’t help but stare at the mirror. Her hair was so blonde and curly. Her tits were so big and bouncy. Her hips were so broad and curvy. She didn’t know if she had always been this hot and had just forgotten or if she’d just gotten this hot recently. Maybe it was the whiskey. Maybe she needed to start drinking more.
Once Yum-Yum had pulled Shawna’s boots on, Shawna was a good 5 inches taller than the Japanese woman. That was good. No one would doubt that Shawna was the senior sky slut. They posed together in front of the mirror, helping straighten each other’s uniforms.
At some point, Shawna found herself staring, her bleary blue eyes mirrored in Yum-Yum’s big brown ones. And then they were kissing.
Shawna didn’t know if she had initiated it or if it had been Yum-Yum. She didn’t know if she had always been bisexual or Yum-Yum had awakened the urges in her. She didn’t know how their massive racks managed to squeeze between them, but she was pretty certain the way they were squeezing each other’s asses was key to the arrangement, so she held on tight.
“I’m sorry I was sush a bitch out there,” Shawna said once the kiss had ended.
“Is O.K.!” Yum-Yum assured her. “Yum-Yum was big bitch before. Now, Yum-Yum big slut! But just Junior Sky Slut, yes?”
Shawna giggled and tweaked Yum-Yum’s nose.
“Thas’ right, Junior Sky Slut Yum-Yum!” she said. “Follow me! Do what I do!”
Yum-Yum giggled and eagerly followed.
*********************************************
“Alllllll righty then!” Shawna said, once she was back in front of the first class passengers. “Listen up, now, everybuzzy!”
And they were listening up. She’d never had so much attention to her pre-flight instructions in all her career. She LOVED this uniform!
First class consisted of the cute young man who had been nice enough to get her drunk, an older but clearly virile gentlemen with his 20-year old nympho wife in a catholic girl’s school uniform, a blonde dominatrix with her collared, submissive pet, and two Swedish bikini models in their work clothes. Your typical first class mix.
“Thank you for choosing Southern Comfort Air for your flight to Barcelona, Spain and connecting destinations!” she said to the attentive, drooling passengers. “I’m Shawna Larsen and I’ll be your Senior Sky Slut here in firs’ class! I’m assithsted today by Junior Sky Slut Yum-Yum Fukadonki! Say hello, Yum-Yum!”
“Harrow, Yum-Yum!” her apprentice dutifully said.
“We’ll be on our way shortly, but firs’ I gotta, like, tell you about safety,” she said. “You’ll notice that the capin’ has illuminated the “No Fucking” light.”
Shawna pointed to the light with the two stick figures fucking doggy-style above each passenger on the left side of the plane. Yum-Yum pointed to the signals on the right side of the plane. She was a quick study!
“We can’t be fucking when taking off or landing.” Shawna explained. “Iss juss not safe. Affer we reach cruising altitude, if the capin’ thinks iss safe, he’ll turn off the light and we can all jus’ fuck like bunnies! <giggle> Those passeners who wanna prasis safe sex can find an assortment of condoms and dental dams for your use, as well as lots of lubes and shit, in the pocket in front of yer seat. First class totally scores there. The folks in coach gotta pay extra fer lube.”
She could tell the passengers were glad she was looking out for them. Plus they all wanted to fuck her. It was obvious. She’d be soaking her panties if her uniform came with them.
“During take off and landing, if you wish to masherbate in your seats, there’s a naked picture of me in the centerfold of Sky Slut Magazine, available in the pocket beneath your tray table,”
Shawna announced, trying to not sound to arrogant while announcing that she had been chosen to be the centerfold once again. The dominatrix’ pet reached for the seat pocket and she slapped his hand with her end of his leash. Shawna was careful not to grin.
“In the unlikely event of an emershency water landing, all the ladies’ titties can be used as floatation devices,” Shawna informed them. “My assssistant Yum-Yum will help demonstrate.”
Yum-Yum eagerly stepped forward.
“If we go crash-crash in ocean, no panic!” she told them. “Find girl with titties and undress the titties!”
She undid the button on Shawna’s vest and her boobs popped out, causing the passengers to oo and aw appreciatively.
“Then inflate titties by blowing into nipples!” the Junior Sky Slut continued, and then showed the passengers, grabbing Shawna’s nipples between thumb and forefinger and blowing into one and then the other, inflating them to the size of soccer balls.
The passengers stared, dumbfounded but impressed. One of the bikini models pulled her companion’s left tit out to try, but Shawna shot her down.
“Not unless we have a water landing,” Shawna said firmly, then squeezed her nipples to deflate her own titties back to her normal triple Ds so that the passengers wouldn’t be jealous. She re-buttoned her vest and the bikini models sulked but complied.
“We know you have a choice in airlines and we appreciate you choosing Southern Comfort Air!” Shawna said. “If there is anything that Yum-Yum and I can do to make your flight more pleasant and to keep you coming again and again, please let us know! Now sit back and enjoy the flight. We should be taking off any minute now.”
Shawna pointed Yum-Yum towards her seat and went to strap herself in for take off.
“Actually, Shawna, we’ve been in the air for some time now,” James Green told her. “I didn’t think I should make everybody late just because I wanted to play. Just because I’m omnipotent doesn’t mean I have to be an asshole about it.”
“Huh?” Shawna asked, once again very confused. There was a full drink in her hand, so she drained it in hopes that it would make things better.
It did. She realized she didn’t give a flying fuck how the plane had taken off without her noticing. As Yum-Yum took her glass away to the kitchenette, the overhead speaker came on.
“Hello! This is your captain speaking! We’ve reached a cruising altitude of 30,000 feet and we’ve got clear skies from here to Barcelona, so I’m going to be turning off the ‘No Fucking’ sign for the duration of the flight,” said the captain. “For our omnipotent passengers who would like to join the mile high club, I’d encourage you to consider Sky Slut Shawna. She is one hot piece of ass. Whomever you decide to fuck, I do hope you enjoy your flight!”
The illuminated no-fucking signs went off and, with them, panties, boxers and bikini bottoms. Shawna grinned as all the passengers got into their various positions. The in flight orgy was why she had become a flight attendant in the first place!
“Excuse me, Miss?” said the young man from the front aisle seat. “But the Captain mentioned something about the mile high club?”
“Of course, Sir!” she said with her best customer-service grin. “How would you like to fuck me?”
“Bent over right her in the aisle seems like a good way to start!” he said.
“That’s my favorite!” she told him. However had he guessed?
She grabbed hold or the arm rests on either sides of the aisle. The omnipotent passenger rolled her skirt up around her hips.
At her left, the woman in the catholic school girl’s uniform had her own skirt flipped up and was easing a monstrous cock into her tight pussy as her husband leaned his seat back. No wonder the young hottie stayed with a man so much older than her!
Behind them, the bikini models had shed their work clothes and what they were doing made Shawna suspect that they could have been gymnasts if their titties weren’t so big. They certainly were flexible! Shawna never would have thought of putting a toe in there! But it was a long flight. She’d have to try it eventually!
The blonde dominatrix had a black thong around her index finger. Shawna could smell the intense odor of her sex. She had pushed her sub down into the space in front of her seat (it was a good thing they didn’t have any carryon luggage down there!) and she was grinding her pelvis into his face. But she barely seemed to be paying attention to the man slavishly giving her cunnilingus. Her eyes were burning into Shawna.
Shawna blushed at the implications, but then James Green’s hard cock was entering her from behind and any rational thought ceased to be an option.
“OH FUCK YES!” she exclaimed as he took hold of her hips and began to work in and out, in and out of her, slowly, firmly, ineffably.
She’d never felt so alive, so free, so unashamedly slutty!
The dominatrix, her eyes twinkling, reached forward and undid the button of Shawna’s vest so that her tits were free and swung forward with every instant thrust of James’ cock.
The woman riding her husband’s monster cock reached out to squeeze Shawna’s left nipple and giggled. Even the bikini models looked up from each other’s bodies to admire how lovely Shawna looked while being fucked.
And then her apprentice Yum-Yum was there in front of her. It didn’t even occur to Shawna to wonder how. She was just glad that Yum-Yum was there to rub her lovely tits on Shawna’s face while James was fucking her.
And then the Junior Sky Slut was down on her knees in the aisle of first class and she was sucking on Shawna’s clitty as James pounded her with his cock. Something exploded. It may have been the plane’s engines. It may have been Shawna’s brain. One or the other was going into a tail spin and she didn’t give a flying fuck which.
“I’m Flying!” She cried out in ecstasy. “I’m FLYYYYYYIIIING!!!”
FIN
Like this post if you’d like to see more of James Green and Yum-Yum.
“So you’re saying I was your big brother?” she asked.
“That’s right,” he said.
“And I bet you that your reality engine wouldn’t work?” she continued.
“Correct,” he said.
“And so you said if it didn’t work, I could have your motorcycle, but if it DID work, you got to turn me into your hot lingerie-model sister?” she asked.
“Exactly,” he said. “And so, here we are.”
She frowned.
“I’m not buying it,” she said. “If I’m your brother, why would you let me blow you?”
“Well, I…” he said.
She giggled.
“You almost had me for a second there, bro,” she said. “Want another? Just to prove I’m your sister?”
“If it would make you feel better, sure!” he said.
“OK, Carlos. Here are my panties,” Belinda replied, indulging his request yet again. “Though I can’t begin to imagine why a young man like yourself would want to see an old lady’s underwear.”
“Well, it’s not so much the underwear as your willingness to show them to me, Belinda” he said. “Why do you suppose you did that?”
Belinda giggled and shrugged.
“Because you asked me to,” she said.
“And that’s a very good reason to do things, right?”“ he pressed.
"Right!” she agreed.
She’d been worried there for a moment, but clearly Carlos was right. She’d been doing what he asked her to do for a while that afternoon and each time she had complied it felt like a better decision than the time before.
The first time, it had felt a little weird, she had to admit. The young man had come up to her in the grocery store and asked her to hand him a box of cereal. There wss no reason he couldn’t get it himself, but it was such a tiny thing, it seemed silly to argue about it.
And of course, once he had asked her to put it back and hand him a different box, she had done that too, since if she had handed him the first box, it would be odd to refuse him the second. And since she had put the first back, why not put the second back upside down, especially when he had asked so nicely.
And the tower he had asked her to build in the middle of the aisle just kind of followed naturally from there.
Carlos had asked her to think of him as a friend, and of course she did. She wouldn’t build a cereal box tower in a grocery store with a stranger, would she? And since she thought of him as a friend, she didn’t hesitate to tell him all about herself when he asked. And she was glad to buy him anything he wanted, which was how she had ended up with a cart full of booze, pudding and whipped topping.
And she was glad to store all the alcohol at her house, of course, since he was only 19 and couldn’t legally have it. Which was how she’d wound up showing him her panties in her living room.
“Belinda, could you get down on all fours and pretend you’re a dog for me, please? ” he asked. “I’d really appreciate it.”
“Oh sure!” she said, and gladly complied. “Ruff! Ruff!”
“Oh, and pull up your skirt so I can see your panties while you waggle your ass, please,” he said.
Of course she did. She had already shown him her panties. She had already acted like a dog. Why not do both?
“You are such a good little bitch, Belinda,” he praised.
“Ruff-Ruff!” she said, happy to be a good little bitch, wiggling her ass with joy.
Carlos pulled his dick out. Belinda blinked. She really wasn’t expecting this when she took him home with her.
“Please crawl over here and jerk me off, Belinda,” he asked.
She guessed if she was going to wiggle her ass at him and be his good little bitch, jerking him off was just a natural continuation of what she had already agreed to. And besides, he had asked so nicely. She crawled over and started gently tugging on his swollen member without hesitation.
“I want you to really enjoy this, Belinda,” he said. “You can do that for me, can’t you?”
“Of course!” she said, delighted the way his erection be felt in her hands “It’s really fun!”
“You enjoy the way you can’t help doing everything I ask you to, don’t you?” he pressed.
“I do seem to, don’t I?” she said. “I was hesitant at first, but I don’t know why. Really, this is the best day ever!”
“It’s going to get even better, I promise,” he said. “Can you think of anything you wouldn’t do if I asked you to?”
Belinda didn’t hesitate.
“I’ll do anything I can for you, Carlos,” she pledged.
“That’s a very good attitude and a very good start,” he praised. “But you can do more, Belinda. Once you’re willing to do everything you can, it’s just one small step to start doing everything else as well.”
“Everything else?” she asked, confused.
“You’ll do the impossible for me, won’t you Belinda?” he asked. “Please?”
How could she possibly refuse when he asked so nicely?
“I will,” she agreed.
“Would you be younger for me, Belinda?” he asked. “Please get younger.”
Belinda had no idea how to do that. But after coming this far, she wasn’t going to let that stop her. She concentrated and shed 20 years in 20 seconds. It was such a relief to have 40 year old knees in her current position, she couldn’t help but giggle. Not that she minded suffering to do what Carlos asked, but she had asked her to enjoy it, and this definitely made that easier!
“Oh, that’s very good, Belinda,” he praised. “But you can do more. Be younger, please, Early 20s.”
Belinda shed another 20 years even faster, her hair streaming down to how dhe had worn it in college. She’d do anything for Carlos, but she was so glad he had asked her to do this! She felt amazing!
“Oh, you make a very pretty 20 year old, Belinda,” he praised. “Please be naked so I can see what we’re working with.”
He hadn’t asked her to strip. He had just asked her to be naked. So Belinda just made her clothing disappear in her eagerness to comply.
“Nice!” he said. “But it would be nicer if your tits were bigger, don’t you think?”
“Yesl” she agreed, delighted at how young her voice sounded.
She grabbed hold of her boobs and focused on then growing. It felt so nice as ther began to swell beneath her palms.
“Bigger?” she asked hopefully.
“Bigger,” he nodded decisively.
Belinda dutifully complied, delighted to become what he wanted her to become.
After all, he had asked so nicely.
He asked her to stand and turn about and politely asked for other little chanes to her body, which she was, of course, delighted to make. And once she looked and felt the way he wanted her to look and feel, she felt much more confident returning her focus to his cock and doing what he asked to get him off.
After doing this in many different ways all over Belinda’s house, making creative use of the pudding and whipped topping she had bought for him what seemed a lifetime ago, they lazed on her bed, propped up on pillows, sipping wine while he casually fondled her.
He explained how he developed his powers to ask for things when he turned 18, just like many of the men in his ancestral line. But his family members always seemed to use their power for selfish reasons. Carlos had vowed to use his powers to make the world a better place.
“You’re so good!” she said, with the adoring respect he had asked her to feel for him.
“I’m glad you think so!” he said. “And you can make the world a better place too, Belinda.”
Belinda giggled.
“I don’t have powers the way you do,” she pointed out.
“No,” he conceded. “But doing what you’re asked is its own sort of power. I’m not asking you to do everything anyone asks you to do. I’m just asking you to remember how good it feels to comply when someone asks you nicely before you decide. Can you do that for me, please?”
“I can!” she promised. “I’m going to pay it forward!”
“Working late again tonight, Trey?” Lauren asked as her husband came in.
Trey sighed. She clearly wanted a fight. He might as well give it to her.
“Actually, Bill invited me to get a beer at Lace and Leather so I figured, why the hell not?” he said, and waited for the explosion that would finally clear the wreckage of their marriage.
“Ha!” Lauren exclaimed triumphantly, then giggled. “it worked! It really worked!”
Lauren was grinning fiendishly. This was not the response he was expecting.
“What worked?” he asked.
“The spell!” she explained. “I bought a magic spell online and cast it this afternoon! It made it so you will always have to tell me the truth!”
Trey blinked in disbelief. He’d suspected her sanity for some time now, but really?
“You’re crazy, Lauren,” he said.
Her eyes went wild and she cackled wildly. She started pulling obsessively at her hair.
“Lauren, what’s going on?” he asked, alarmed.
“I’M CRAZY!!!” she screeched.
“Ok, ok!” he said. “You made your point! You don’t have to pull your hair out!”
She stopped pulling her hair but she still looked nuts.
“You know, you could just trust me without trying to find some magic spell,” he told her.
“I could,” she agreed. “I could just trust you.”
“Then why don’t you?” he asked.
“Cuz you’re a liar!” she said.
Trey sighed.
“Look, Lauren, I haven’t always been completely honest,” he admitted. “But the little lies I’ve told really don’t matter.”
“They don’t matter,” she agreed.
That phased him.
“You really don’t think they matter?” he asked.
“Of course not!” she affirmed. “They don’t!”
“Huh,” he said. “I’m so glad we could put that behind us. I mean, I like going to strip clubs with Bill and it doesn’t hurt you in any way. It’s not like it’s cheating or anything like that.”
“No, it’s not like cheating at all,” she agreed. “No reason I should mind!”
Trey wondered if she was just giving him enough rope to hang himself. But he pushed ahead.
“Of course, you could come with us next time,” he said. “You’d probably enjoy it a lot more than you might think.”
“I probably would!” she agreed. “When are you going again?”
“Hell, we could go tomorrow if it would make you happy,” Trey said.
Lauren looked confused.
“Would it make me happy?” she asked. “I…I don’t know what’s happening… Why do I keep…”
“It would make you happy, Lauren,” he said. “I can honestly say that you’re deleriously happy that I’m taking you to a strip club tomorrow.”
Lauren sighed, the anxiety melting away, then she giggled.
“I’m so happy!” she exclaimed.
Trey was dumbfounded, but all the evidence seemed to point to Lauren’s spell having worked. He could only tell her the truth. Just not in the way she had intended.
“You’ve always secretly wanted to be a stripper, haven’t you Lauren?” he said.
“Yes, yes I have,” she said. “I guess that’s why I cast that spell on you, Trey. I was just jealous that you were were watching other girls dance instead of me. But you going to strip clubs doesn’t hurt me in any way, so that doesn’t really make sense!”
“I guess not,” he said. “But the important thing is that now you know I’ll always tell you the truth and so you’ll trust me completely, right Lauren?”
“Right!” she agreed.
“Because your spell will never, ever wear off,” he said.
“Never ever!” she affirmed. “It’s permanent!”
Who knew if that was true before, but Trey was glad he thought to make it so if it wasn’t.
“And you’re not going to worry your pretty little head about what the spell did or why you decided to cast it anymore, are you Lauren?” he said.
“I’m not worried,”’ she said with a flip of her hand.
“Well good!” he said. “Now tell me more about your dream of being a stripper!”
Lauren giggled and blushed.
“I just think it would be really fun to dance and be all sexy and have guys throw money at me,” she said.
“Well I’ve got a dollar right here,” he said, pulling a bill out of his wallet. “You want this, don’t you?”
“I do!” she said, looking hungrily at the single.
“Then work for it, Lauren,” he said. “Dance for me. You know you want to.”
“I want to!” she agreed and got to her feet. She fiddled with her phone and soon it was blaring out The Spice Girls. Trey rolled his eyes but he guessed if he was going to change her life’s aspirations, he could at least leave her shitty taste in music in tact. At least for now.
“What’s your stripper name, Lauren?” he asked as she started wiggling and slowly unbuttoning. “Since it’s your fondest dream, you must have chosen one.”
“I’m Chardonnay!” she said confidently. “Cuz I’m sweet and a little bit intoxicating!”
She ran a hand seductively along her side.
“I like it!” he said. “I might start calling you that all the time. You’d like that, wouldn’t you Chardonnay?”
“Oh yes!” She agreed, undoing another button and popping out her chest.
She continued awkwardly dancing and stripping. Trey wondered just how effective his magical truth telling was. Could he make her more skillful?
“You’re really good at this, Chardonnay,” he said. “You must spend hours a day practicing.”
“Thanks for noticing,” she said and smoothly removed her top while executing a perfect pirouette that led directly into her making a pendulum of her hips as she shucked off her pants.
Trey was amazed. Not only was she dancing with incredible skill, she had a dancer’s body. The pooch she’d developed after their first year of marriage was gone. Her muscles were toned and lithe. As she playfully flicked her bra off, he saw her tits were smaller but perkier, her pecs well developed. Wherever she’d been practicing, she’d clearly been doing pole work.
If he could truthfully get her fit, what more could he change?
“I’m so glad you went with the larger breast implants, Chardonnay,” he said. “They look fantastic.”
“Thanks, Babe,” she said as her rack was suddenly surgically enhanced.
“Damnation you’re tittilicious!” he exclaimed.
She giggled and threw her head and shoulders back and shook her big fake titties.
This was astounding.
“Damn, girl! You look like you could be a pornstar!” he said.
She changed again, subtly.
“Would you like to film me!” she asked, holding up her big fake tits.
“Maybe later,” he said. “I know how horny dancing makes you, so you must be anxious to get my 10 inch cock in you.”
Trey felt the swelling in his pants suddenly become substantially greater. He didn’t have to just tell the truth about his wife! He just had to tell the truth TO his wife.
“Oh god yes!” she said. *I’m so fucking horny! Give me that dollar and fuck me!“
Trey forgot he was still holding the dollar. He tucked it in her panties, but then peeled them down. Her pubes had been bleached and shaved into a landing strip. She was dripping.
He licked her cunt, then stood to fondle the fake tits his wife had become so proud of.
"You really want it up the ass, Chardonnay,” he told her.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” the rich man said.
“Of course, sir,” the facilitator replied. “Our clients tend to need our services in a timely manner if they’re to avoid… unpleasantness.”
“Yes, well, I haven’t actually been charged with anything yet,” he said. “But it’s…not looking good. Normally I’d just leave the country, but with Covid, any place I’d want to live is restricting immigration now, even for the wealthy!”
“Tragic,” the facilitator commiserated. “But with our services, I assure you that you can disappear without leaving the country!”
“That’s what I was given to understand!” he said. “Though I’m not clear on how. Fake ID isn’t going to do it. People know my face. Do you provide plastic surgery?”
“Oh, nothing so crude as that, sir,” he said. “We use state-of-the art reality-morphing technology to make you into a different person.”
“You use what now?” he asked.
“Let me demonstrate,” he replied, pulling out a futuristic-looking gun.
“Now wait one minute!” the rich man objected just before being bathed in ethereal light.
“Wha…what did you do!” the rich woman exclaimed.
“I’ve transformed you into your own widow,” the facilitator explained.
“My widow?” she exclaimed.
“Yes,” he said. “As far as the world is concerned, you died tragically in an autoerotic asphyxiation accident last year leaving your estate to your wife, Pamela.”
“Autoer….Now wait one damned minute!” Pamela exclaimed. “If you can do something like this, why the hell did you have to make me a woman? And kill me off in such an embarrassing way?”
“Oh, I didn’t have to,” the facilitator clarified. “This is just one example of the possibilities! It has the advantage of letting you keep your house and other assets, but there are other ways to do that. You could be your adult child instead of your widow and still inherit everything, for instance.”
“Well that makes a lot more sense, doesn’t it?” Pamela said.
“If you say so,” the facilitator said, aiming the gun at her.
“Wait! I have other…” Pamela objected as she was washed away and replaced.
“OK, what the actual fuck?” the newly minted heiress exclaimed.
“You’re not happy with this either, Tiffany?” the facilitator asked innocently.
“No! I am not happy with this!” Tiffany confirmed.
“Well, I suppose with your tragic backstory of your parents being killed by freedom fighters while visiting their Central American investment property is bound to result in some melancholy, but I’d think the size of your inheritance, along with the size oof your boobs, might be a silver lining,” he said.
“Why do I have to have boobs at all?” Tiffany demanded. “Good God, if you can just switch around reality, why would you make me a woman? Why not make me a rich man who ISN’T about to be indicted for insider trading?”
“So just like you were, but no legal trouble?” the facilitator said dubiously
“Yes!” Tiffany exclaimed, stamping her delicate little foot. “I mean, duh!”
“That doesn’t sound fun for me at all,” the facilitator said.
“Fun? Fun!?! Why should I give a fuck if it’s fun?” Tiffany demanded. “I’m not paying you to have fun!”
“But Tiffany, really,” he said. “If I can do what I’ve already shown you I can do, why on earth would I need your money?”
Tiffany stood with her mouth agape, unable to think of an answer as the facilitator took aim and blasted her into oblivion, along with all her memories of ever having been a rich man.
“Uuuummmm… I’m sorry, Sir,” she said. “I forgot what I was saying.”
“You were telling me how you had made some poor financial decisions, Chesty,” her boss explained. “You’ve been evicted from your apartment and you were hoping you could live here.”
“Oh! Oh yes! Yes, Sir!” Chesty the Maid said. “Do you think that would be possible? I’d be ever so grateful!”
“How grateful?” her boss asked, looking at what had earned her her nickname.
“Oh, very, very, grateful, Sir!” she said. “Let me demonstrate!”
Seriously? Their first dinner out in weeks and he was on the phone with Jeff?
“You figured it out? How?!” Greg exclaimed.
Angie sighed as her tech geek husband babbled with his even geekier friend. It was bad enough that Greg seemed to be spending every Sunday in Jeff’s garage working on some ‘top secret project that will change the world!’. Now he apparently needed to consult on the project during dinner!
Angie was about to get up and walk out when Greg said “Yeah, she’s right here. Were having dinner at Millie’s Cafe.”
He looked up at her and grinned. She scowled at him and gestured to their meal. She didn’t want the reputation of being a bitchy wife who wouldn’t let her husband have friends, but this was ridiculous.
“You can do that?” Greg said, oblivious to her displeasure. “It has that kind of range?”
“Seriously Greg?” Angie said, losing all patience.
Greg held a hand out to her, urging her to wait just one minute. It was infuriating.
“Yes, if you can do it, you should do it now,” Greg said. “You know what I like.”
What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Angie was about to demanded to know what was so goddamn important that it was worth ruining their date and possibly their marriage when the room was filled with a blinding white light and a rush of noise, followed by darkness and silence.
Angie blinked back to awareness. Her husband was staring at her, wide-eyed. She giggled gently. She knew the dress would be a big hit. Greg did so love it when she put the girls on display!
“You, sir, are a genius,” Greg told his friend. “A VERY generous genius.”
Angie didn’t know what Greg was talking about with Jeff. She usually didn’t. They were both just so much smarter than her! But that was ok. She could tell whatever Jeff had told Greg made him happy, so that made Angie happy. She sipped patiently at her wine, then shifted in her seat to better show off her perfect titties to het perfect husband.
“We are definitely going to need to talk about what else that thing can do,” Greg said. “Tomorrow. Right now, I think I need to take my hot wife home to bed.”
Angie giggled and licked her lips. She lived to make Greg horny for her and loved it when he told his friends she had succeeded. She didn’t mind making Greg’s friends horny too. They always told him how lucky he was, but Angie knew SHE wss the lucky one!
“Really?” Greg said. “Nobody in the entire restaurant? You’re a mad genius my friend! Yes, I will totally let you know how it goes. Tomorrow!”
Greg hung up the phone and put it away without taking his eyes off Angie’s magnificent melons. She leaned her head to the side and let her long dark hair swish the way he loved.
“So,” she said. “If I understood you right, you’re going to take me home and fuck my brains out. Should we ask them to box up dinner and take it home for after?”
“You’re a horny lil’ minx, aren’t you Angie,” her husband observed.
Angie giggled and shrugged, jiggling her jugs.
“It’s your fault!” she said. “You fuck me so good with that big cock of yours, it’s practically all I can think of! Really, you made me this way!”
She giggled again to show she wasn’t serious. Though she kind of was. Thoughts of her husband’s dick were filling her head at that very moment.
“Well, Angie, I really do appreciate being married to a stacked nympho,” he said. “But I’ve been wishing we had a Morroccan restaurant in town for years. Luckily, we don’t need to leave before dinner.”
“We don’t?” she asked, her lower lip trembling at the thought that Greg wanted Morroccan couscous more than her cooze cooze. She wanted him to be happy, of course, and wouldn’t complain. Still…
“See, Jeff and I have been building a reality engine in his garage,” Greg explained. “Not only did he create this restaurant with it, he made it so no one in the entire place will object if you crawl under the table and suck me off before our entrees arrive!”
“Really?” Angie asked, her eyes going wide. “That’s so cool! What a good friend to do that for both of us!”
“I think so,” Greg agreed.
“Well then,” Angie announced. “I’m going to duck down and enjoy my appetizer!”
She giggled at her husband’s happy grin and then headed down intent on making it bigger. Jeff and Greg were right! Their machine could change the world! Angie’s world at least! If it could let her suck her husband off in a restaurant, who could guess where else it might let her service Greg!
Angie would have to ask Jeff what was possible, she thought as she freed Greg’s cock and slipped it between lips made for the job. She was sure she could convince Jeff it was a good use of the machine thingy. She didn’t think Greg would mind.
And then she didn’t think anything at all for quite some time. Life was good!
“So how has this first week out of the hospital gone, Charles?” Carol asked.
“Remarkably well, Dr. Rossman!” her patient exclaimed. “Best week of my life!”
“That’s good! What made it so great?” she asked.
“My new ability to warp reality!” her patient said.
Carol’s face fell.
“Charles, I thought we moved beyond this,” the psychiatrist said. “You were only released because you had learned to make a distinction between reality and these delusions. Maybe we were a little to hasty to send you out on your own.”
“I… really think I’d like a second opinion on that, Dr. Rossman,” he said, raising an eyebrow.
“A….a second opinion?” she asked.
“Yes, I’d like a second opinion, please,” he insisted.
“Oh..oh, well, I really think the important thing is that your enjoying yourself,” she said. “You believing you can alter reality with just the power of your mind doesn’t hurt anyone. If you enjoy it, who am I to spoil your fun?”
“Well, that’s really open minded of you, Doc,” her patient said. “Still, I think I’d enjoy a second opinion.”
“A second opinion?” she said, blinking. “Well, I really think it’s remarkable that the accident seems to have given you the power to warp reality just by thinking about it. Really, I feel so lucky to be your physician and help guide you as you learn to use this new ability! Just imagine how much good you could do with such incredible power!”
“I guess I could do a lot of good,” he conceded, tugging his chin. “And yet, I still want a second opinion.”
“A second opinion…” Carol said, her head swimming. “Oh! Oh, yeah, sure! You know what would be cool?”
“What would be cool, Doc?” he asked.
“It would be so cool if you used your powers for sex!" she said, her pussy gushing at the thought.
"For sex?” her patient asked. “I’m intrigued, Doc. What do you mean?”
“I mean you should totally use your powers to turn me into a sexual fantasy!” she explained, really warming to the idea. “Transform me into a big tittied bimboslut and fuck my brains out!”
“Interesting…” he said.
“And that’s your professional opinion, Dr. Rossman?” he asked.
“Totally!” she exclaimed. “That’s my opinion as a professional sex-therapist,/whore!”
“Well, I guess I’ll trust your opinion, Doc!” he said.
Carol giggled. She was so glad! Her patient was totally right. This was going to be the best week ever!
“I know I’m not your dad, Clive,” Reggie said. “I’m your STEP-dad. I’m not trying to replace your father. Really, you’re an adult. No reason we can’t just be acquaintances who care for your mother. Hell, you didn’t have to move in here when Angela did. It might be a great time in your life yo think about getting an apartment.”
The punk rolled his eyes.
“You could never replace my Father,” he said. “My Father is Lord Algortharoth, Baron of the Fifth Circle of Garon-Teliceth!”
Okay, less cliche, but decidedly more nutso. How had Angela managed to raise such a weirdo? From what she had told him, she barely knew Clive’s father. The kid was old enough to have outgrown normal fantasies about an absentee father, let alone this D&D shit!
“Well, if your father is a Baron, maybe you should move in with him,” Reggie said.
The young man laughed maniacally.
“I am not yet ready to enter My Father’s House,” he said. “First, I must master the power he has bestowed upon me this day!”
“Well, you clearly need to master something,” Reggie said.
But then Clive rolled his eyes back so only the blood-shot whites showed and he pointed a contorted hand at him and made ugly, gutteral sounds.
The world shimmered like some kind of heat mirage.
“Look, Clive,” Renata said. “I get it. You never expected your mom to end up with a woman. You don’t have to think of me as a step-mom, but you DO need to respect that I’m Angela’s partner now.”
“This is unacceptable!” the wierd young man said. “This is NOT what I wanted!”
Renata rolled her eyes. How had Angela raised such a spoiled brat?
“You can’t always get what you want, Clive,” she said.
“I can!” he insisted. “It’s my birthright!”
Clive rolled his eyes back so only the blood-shot whites showed and he pointed a contorted hand at her and made ugly, gutteral, insistent sounds.
There was a wooshing sound and a distant screeching.
“Look,” Reagan said. “I care for your mother deeply, Clive. Nothing is going to change that. But I have needs…hungers…that Angela can’t always fill.”
“So you cheat on her?” Clive demanded. “You’re not a Step-Mom! You’re a Step-Whore!”
He sounded angry, but Reagan couldn’t help but notice that his eyes were devouring her. And the way he had called her a whore wasn’t so much derogatory as hopeful.
“This could work out well for you, Clive,” Reagan said, stepping towards him. “I don’t have to be just A Step-Whore. I can be YOUR Step-Whore! I can be very, very good to you, Clive. And Angela doesn’t have to know about any of it! So everyone will be happy!”
“I dunno…” he ssid to her tits and she knew she had him.
“Let me see if I can help you understand what I’m offering,” Reagan said, sinking to her knees in front of him and undoing his pants. “You might enjoy having a Step-Whore!”
His engorged cock confirmed she was right about that. And Reagan started vigorously blowing him, on fire with lust. Angela was a hot piece of ass and Reagan cared about her, but there was something about a young man with a hard dick that Reagan just couldn’t resist. As Clive called her a whore and a slut and a bitch, she couldn’t deny it was true. But Angela didn’t need to know that. She was sure she could buy off Clive’s silence. As he pumped his hot sperm down her throat, she knew she had him just where she wanted him!
*So, Clive,“ she said, smirking with self-satisfaction. "Do we have a deal? I’m your sweet new Step-Mom when Angela is around and your Nympho Step-Whore when she’s not?”
“I… don’t think so…” he said, then smirked.
Reagan was shocked. How could he possibly resist her?
Clive rolled his eyes back so only the blood-shot whites showed and he pointed a contorted hand at her and made ugly, gutteral sounds.
The world dropped like an elevator who’s cable had snapped.
ReeRee giggled. Her step-brother was staring at her boobs again. She knew it was naughty, but ever since Mama Angela brought her home after she aged out of the orphanage, she couldn’t resist playing for Clive’s attention and wearing scandalously skimpy outfits.
“When will Mama Angela be home, Brother?” ReeRee asked.
“Not for a couple hours at least,” he said, licking his lips.
ReeRee giggled and moved her shoulders back and forth so her boobies swayed and jostled.
“Then can we go play in her big bed?” she asked.
“I don’t know, ReeRee,” he said. “You’re my Step-Sister.”
ReeRee pouted.
“I’m not your Step-Sister!” she said. “I’m your Step-Bimbo! Surely you can fuck your Step-Bimbo!”
Clive pulled on his chin, looking her up and down as if considering if he wanted to change anything about her.
“Yeah, this works,” he said.
ReeRee squealed and scampered off to her step-mother’s bedroom, her step-brother close behind, grabbing at her ass. She loved her new family!
Professor Alencar blinked as the world came back into focus. What had just happened? They were about to test the Hypothetical Reality Engine she had invented and labored on for for decades. But that didn’t make sense…she was barely 30!
She looked around, trying to make sense of what had happened. Her lab tech, Harold, was there by the H.R.E., grinning creepily at her. That wasn’t right! And why was he wearing that weird device oh his head? And why was it plugged into her invention?
But it couldn’t be her invention, could it? That didn’t make sense. If it was her invention, why would Harold have a neural interface to control it? Not that Adriana knew what a neural interface was. Or what Harold’s machine did. She didn’t have to know. She was just the Lab Whore. That made sense.
“Did it work, Dr. Harold?” she asked.
“Oh, it worked brilliantly, Adriana!” her boss told her.
“YAY!” she exclaimed.
The scientists always fucked her extra hard when their experiment thingies worked. She guessed that only made sense.
>You ok there Officer Sambuca? You seem a little confused.
“I was going…I was going to arrest you…”
>Now why on earth would you want to arrest me?
“Unauthorized…unauthorized use of reality warping technology. So hard to think. Must remember…I’m not…I’m not…”
>Now why in the multiverse would I warp reality Officer Sambuca? This is the best of all possible worlds, protected by the Bimbo Police who protect us all from getting too horny!
“I’m not…not a bimbo cop…have to remember…”
>Oh, don’t be so modest Officer Sambuca! Of course you’re a Bimbo Cop! You’re the most decorated Bimbo Cop in the multiverse! You were awarded Bronze Dildo last year for going above and beyond the call of duty last year. Surly you remember.
“I…I remember?”
>Of course you remember Officer Sambuca. That’s what happened in the only reality that matters. You wouldn’t forget receiving the Bronze Dildo anymore than you would forget the Bimbo Cop’s Motto, would you?
“The Motto…I remember the Bimbo Cop’s Motto…I must remember the Bimbo Cop’s Motto…”
>And what was the motto you swore to uphold Officer Sambuca?
“To serve…to serve and protect…to serve and protect while I serve the erect! I solemnly swear to serve and protect while I serve the erect! I’m a Bimbo Cop! I solemnly swear to serve and protect while I serve the erect! <giggle>”
>I’m so glad you’re here Officer Sambuca! Look what I’ve got in my pants!
“<gasp> OMG! That’s a big one! It’s a good thing I was in the neighborhood! Drop your pants, Citizen! I’m going to do my duty! ”
